Every Day Life on a Ceylon Cocoa Estate by Mary E. Steuart

AUGUST 1st. - Last night we had another tremendous gale, the wind rustled through the cocoanut palms, and whistled through the Casuarinas just as it does through the rigging of a ship, and once or twice I was quite alarmed; the wind and noise of cracking branches even quieted the rats behind the ceiling cloth. Alas! it did not bring the much hoped for rain. All the reputed signs of coming rain have been with us for some days - the cocoa has flushed - the rain-bird has given forth its curious cry - the frogs have croaked - and the sky has been black and threatening. We have seen rain showers travelling to right and left of us, but excepting for a few tantalising drops, we have been left dry and parched and are beginning to fear that, for us, this monsoon will be a failure and most of the young plants will die, and must be replaced when the N.E. monsoon visits us in December. This would mean a good deal of extra expense, which in these days of keen competition is a thing upon which the Visiting Agent would not smile.

No one who has not lived on an Estate out here, could imagine what a Potentate the V.A. is. On him, and on his approval hangs your fate; from his veto there is no appeal! and on his favour depends much of the comfort of your life. He is to the estates under his charge, what the general is to his army, what the headmaster is in a public school, or what a certain European sovereign is, or wishes to be to the nation over which he rules. This awestruck attitude of mind, at first amused me much; and I am afraid were I a superintendent, I should never attain to the necessary amount of submission.